What a trip! Day 3

Day 3 began with a phone call. Kristy got a text saying we couldn't go visit Irene after all. Her son didn't realize a dentist appointment had been scheduled and all his planning had been for nothing. 

Kristy texted back, "We went last night."

Thankfully, we all got to hear the phone call that followed. Not much more was spoken beyond a lot of "Wow. Wow. WOW." 

Our friend was shocked that we'd even gotten through to his mother on the phone, let alone been to visit. He went from despondent to overjoyed in seconds. It was so beautiful to be a part of this plan of God. To be reminded to listen to the nudges of the Holy Spirit. To agree to go when it would be easier to stay. To trust and obey and realize there really is no other way. 

We got breakfast again with our little crew. We got to listen to how the treatments were treating everyone. Ruth was able to stand all the way up, as she hadn't previously been able to do, just a day before. Dave took his oxygen hose off for the entire duration of breakfast. Two days prior he couldn't walk five feet without pausing to take a breath. He could barely speak one sentence without pausing between words. To see him take off the oxygen hose was huge. 

As he tied it up to handle of his bag, he said, "I don't know if it's psychological or if it's just that I'm not scared anymore, but..." I don't know what else he said because I stopped to dwell on those words. Kristy, Sue and I all exchanged glances with tears spilling over. 

He's not scared anymore. 

After breakfast we had another prayer session right there in front of God and everybody watching the ABC morning show and getting their hotel breakfast. It was beautiful and Spirit filled and we all left not wanting to say goodbye to our new friends. 

Little did we know what else God had in store for us.

Our last Uber driver of the trip was so, so special. We started with the normal greetings and he asked if we wanted music or quiet. I said, "We wanna chat with you!" He seemed excited. No, really, he did. 

We asked him where he was from and quickly followed up with our experiences of meeting people from all over and talking about their lives and faith, etc etc. Kristy asked him what he believed and in his awesome Ethiopian accent he answered, "I am a Christian. I love Jesus Christ."

And we hollered and hooplahed as only a car full of Jesus loving crazies do. He wiped tears from his eyes and explained that he had gotten on his knees and prayed for his riders and we were his first ones. We had the best conversation on the way into the city. Through a series of events and blessings, he said he was canceling his uber for the day and would be our driver only. 

Our first stop was to be the busiest abortion clinic in Chicago. Sadly, there are many and the street preacher I was hoping we could go encourage was at a different location. I was so bummed. That said, to see a big city clinic up close and personal made me want to gag. It was so gross. There was a "clinic escort" out front that looked like anyone's Granny...only more ghoulish and bloodthirsty. 

Alex, our driver, who has lived in Chicago for over a decade didn't know what Planned Parenthood was all about.  

He asked if we wanted Starbucks before continuing on into the city. He ended up joining us for a cup of coffee where we all shared pictures of our families to go along with the stories we'd told on the drive. I know this might sound a little crazy, but at no point did it actually *feel* crazy to be sitting in a Starbucks in the middle of Chicago sharing a cuppa with our taxi driver. 

After coffee, before continuing on, I asked if we could swing back by the clinic in the hopes we'd just missed the street preacher. Sure enough, on the second pass, the corner still just had the one ghoulish Granny. Alex thought it would be funny to roll up to the curb and ask her where the preacher was. She did not find it funny. 

Off to the Bean we went. Alex dropped us off and gave us his contact to have him pick us back up after a few hours of exploring. The Bean was...the Bean. We got our snapshots and did some souvenir shopping and then it was back on mission. 

Kristy spotted Michael pretty quickly. She led him to the Lord and then asked him if he was hungry. He'd never been to 5 Guys...What's kinda crazy is that even after the guy at the counter was totally rude to Sue, when they finally bagged up our order, we found there were 2 extra burgers in the bag. How's that for coincidence? Michael got dinner and a burger to give to a friend. 

While we were eating, we heard some of Michael’s story. Towards the end, he seemed to realize he was sharing a meal with complete strangers. He kind of shook his head and said, “I feel like you really see me. Most people just look through me.” 

What a beautiful statement on one hand, but heartbreaking on the other. How many people do we, as followers of Christ, with the most important answer to the most important question…look through?

After adventuring, we were picked back up by Alex and his oldest daughter for the ride home. And what a ride it was. Church in the Uber, again! 

Our time in Chicago was finally wrapping up. We had just one ride left to the airport. That one was handled by the treatment center, so no Ubering was needed. We got picked up in a fancy ride with a fancy driver. We had a very strange conversation that made little progress, but a Bible ended up in the hands of the driver when all was said and done. 

We had a few more encounters here and there in the airport. Honestly, we were all zonked by then. They changed our gate and departure time several times, but we eventually made it back home around 1:30 in the morning...where we had another prayer session with the young lad that pushed the Kristy out to the car. The girl is like the Energizer Bunny...and I am here for it! 

There are so many details I didn't share that belong to us. Little moments to tuck away in our hearts. There were so many God moments that were undeniably part of a much bigger picture. There were successes and some not so successful successes. Meaning, even though people weren't receptive to the Gospel, we still shared it. 

Obedience, regardless of outcome, is worth it.

 

 

What a trip! Day 2

We all woke up early, ready to roll. Met up with some of the gang for breakfast. Dave sent this message the night before, so we were able to connect with him. Look at the language he used. Absolutely amazing. To see these words coming from someone that doesn't know church lingo was such confirmation of the work God was already doing in his heart.

 

During breakfast, another gal asked if she could join our table. I thought maybe she was a stem cell patient we hadn't met, but it turns out she was there for another clinic. This sweet young woman has cancer. She's been trying some not-as-mainstream treatment with fantastic results. It was really cool to hear her story and get to chat with her. She has a Felix, too! I thought it was pretty awesome that she gravitated towards our table. We had church right there in the Sheraton breakfast room.

After that, it was off to the stem cell treatment center. The nurses there drew several vials of blood, then it was time for the scary part. I mean, it was scary to me, but Downtown didn't seem to mind. They stuck that whale of needle into her hip to retrieve the bone marrow. I was able to go back with her for that part and I caught myself cringing, several times. I had to put on my mom face when I realized my cringing probably wouldn't be all that helpful for the patient to see. She was a trooper. Didn't even flinch. 

Sue and I really getting to know each other while we waited. I love our team. I love that God put such a ragtag bunch of people together that have not a whole lot in common, but Him.

After the giant needle, the blood and stem cells had to be processed. An hour and a half later, they came back in and pumped her stem cells back into her through an IV and a few injections. It was a fascinating process to watch. Thanks to modern medicine, Downtown wasn't feeling all that bad. We headed back to the hotel to rest a bit. I figured we'd be there the rest of the day, but I figured wrong...

Weeks before the trip, a friend from our old church reached out to Downtown. He mentioned his mother is in a nursing home in Chicago. He asked if we'd go visit and share the Gospel with her. Given the weight of the situation, we really wanted to be prepared. It seemed kind of surreal that we would be meeting this woman that none of us knew, hundreds of miles from home, on the trip for a completely different reason, but...isn't that usually how God stories begin?

The son had a lot of pointers for us. Conversation starters. Conversations to avoid. Warnings about security guards and staff. A timeline of when to visit and when she wouldn't be able to meet with us. The likelihood that we wouldn't be able to contact her ahead of time. He had a lot of the details planned out. We were supposed to go Wednesday. Wednesday was to be our free day after the treatment. Wednesday was the plan. It was on the woman's calendar. It was all set. 

However. 

Kristy seemed to be doing fairly well after the treatment. She had had a chance to rest, but not for terribly long. I remembered her saying that visiting hours at the nursing home were from 6-8. At that point it was 4:30. I wondered aloud if maybe we should go, not knowing how she'd be feeling the next day. It was approaching rush hour, but Kristy decided to call the nursing home and see if she could talk to her. The staff patched her right through. The woman answered immediately. She was headed to dinner, but said we could come. As it turns out, she had a dentist appointment scheduled the following day for the exact time we were supposed to visit. Seemed meant to be. Off we went. We got another awesome Uber driver. He was a believer and we had a blast with him on the drive, chatting and praying. 

I caught this picture as we were nearing the nursing home. It sure felt like a sign. 

We were asked not to take pictures with this sweet woman and we honored that request. Some things don't need a picture anyway. We spent a few hours with Irene. We shared testimonies and talked about her children and explained the stem cell therapy. We toured the beautiful facility and went outside where she showed us a koi pond and what will soon be a small field of wildflowers. We visited the chapel and a few of the visiting areas. We finally ended up back where we began. We said our goodbyes in a small library, on the second floor of a random nursing home in the suburbs of Chicago. Having been sent as a friend of a friend with one goal. It made me smile at the thought of just how far God will go to rescue one of his sheep. None of the circumstances were ours to decide. We were just there, walking in obedience, having felt the love of a son for his mother and knowing the love of a Father for His daughter. As we wrapped up the conversation, Kristy asked her if she knew where she'd spend eternity and then gently led this sweet soul to the Lord. I told her, "Now you don't have to hope you're saved or think you're saved, you KNOW you're saved." When I wheeled her back to her room, I asked her for a slip of paper. I wrote 1 John 5:13 on a slip of paper with our names. I told her, "If you feel yourself getting scared or doubting, find this verse in your Bible and read it over and over." 

And just like that, our time with Irene was over and we headed back to the hotel. Kristy tried to call Irene's son, but he didn't answer. "I'll wait on him to call me," she said. And he did the next day...

What a trip! (Day 1)

I've been asked to sum up our trip for all the many people who have asked how it went. Given this mission trip was financed by several churches and individuals, a lot of people were invested and have been eager to hear how it went. To say, "It went well!" is a massive understatement. I'll break up the posts into three to highlight each day because so much happened and I don't want to leave anything out. So, here goes. I'll do my best!

Day 1 had us up early to catch our flight. Having now experienced O'Hare in all of its glory, can I just say how much I appreciate our little Richmond airport? No delays. Easy to get around and even a familiar face at the gate. A friend from Petsworth sat right behind us, headed to Chicago for a completely different reason. 

The flight was uneventful. We were told a limousine service was picking us up. Not quite a limousine, but the gal was friendly and stuck in the car with us for quite some time. She was the first to hear the Gospel. She rejected it, but she heard it. She mentioned Kristy was one of the healthier looking patients she'd transported for stem cell treatment. We didn't really grasp the weight of that statement until later...

We had to wait a bit for our room to be ready and it gave us a time to sit and people watch in the hotel lobby. That's when we understood the driver's statement. There were so many sick people that were very, very ill. It was heartbreaking. Several in wheelchairs. A few with crutches. We observed some obvious ailments like Parkinson's and one older gentleman laid nearby on a lobby couch as we all awaited our rooms. You could tell this stem cell treatment was a last ditch effort for many and the hope in their eyes made me pray this thing would bring healing to them all. 

In case anyone reading is unaware, I want to mention why we were there in the first place. Kristy had stem cell treatment seven years ago that put her in remission for three years for her several auto immune disorders. This treatment was a bit more involved than her last one, including harvesting stem cells from bone marrow, rather than from her fat cells like last time. We're praying that makes all the difference.

The first step of the treatment was a pre-op with the doctor. That took place the very first day, right about the time everybody got their rooms. We unloaded our bags, had a bit of a meet and greet with the coordinator of everything in the hotel lobby and then waited on Ubers to get us to the treatment center just a hop, skip and a jump from the hotel. That's when the fun began.

Our first of many, many Uber rides went to a very crotchety old man named Bruce. He was not a good driver and he was not a kind person, but we will never forget him. As soon as we hopped in, he was frustrated with us(and life and cars and technology). He somehow fat fingered the button that initiates the ride. The bubbly greeting of, "Hi, Bruce! How are you?!" by Kristy was answered with, "Not good, grumble grumble grumble." She replied as anyone would with an, "I'm sorry, do you want to tell us about it?" I think the light in her angered the darkness in him and the entire .3 mile ride became a back and forth that he never seemed to actually hear a single word she was saying. Nothing crazy was said to him. As aforementioned, the stem cell place was literally 3 turns away. He somehow managed to miss two of them. During the exchange he said something along the lines of, "You seem to have an answer for everything." To which Kristy, realizing he was super frustrated, kindly replied, "Well, I can listen, too." He shot back, completely missing the olive branch she was extending, "See what I mean?" The conversation just never got off the ground. We were happy to exit his car. 

In our excitement to get away from this man, we didn't realize he was dropping us off at the wrong place. Another uber had to come and correct his mistake. He was a real (rotten) peach, but we laughed it off as we finally got to the stem cell office for the pre-op.

Kristy hit the ground running. She started evangelizing to the few who were sitting there. We'd met one of the gals already at the hotel, so it was nice to see a familiar face, especially knowing we shared the faith. She traveled all the way from Hawaii. We met another sister in Christ, Ruth, who was there hoping stem cells will help with her spinal cord injury. She traveled all the way from South Dakota. 

The third patient we met was Dave, from Colorado. He is the most precious soul. He came into the room, shuffling, barely able to catch a breath to answer even yes or no questions. He developed COPD over the last few years, but this seemed way worse than a run of the mill lung issue. Right away he softened to Kristy. She led him to the Lord within just a few minutes and it was truly a beautiful thing to witness. She explained what it means to be born again and that very phrase popped up again the next day in the most beautiful, beautiful way. 

We all made a lifelong friend in Dave. He shared many stories about his wife who passed away a few years ago. His love for her brought us all to tears as he reminisced. It was amazing to watch his response to the Gospel over the few short days we got to know him. 

After all the pre-ops were done, we met back up with several patients on the curb, awaiting Ubers back to the hotel. We joked, "Hope nobody gets Bruce!" Sure enough, Dave says, "My driver's name is Bruce." Surely not. The coordinator who'd ordered all the Ubers realized one rider had been waiting too long and mentioned they should ride back all together. They did just that and we were the last group left waiting for a ride.

Lo and behold, who, of allllllll the Uber drivers in Chicago, should show up to fetch us? Doggone Bruce pulls up and takes the Lord's name in vain when he sees us. We were all dying laughing. Not him, of course. He didn't laugh about anything. But we cackling ladies were cracking up. Kristy said, "You don't have to take us, Bruce. We can get someone else." He took the Lord's name in vain again. "I can't believe this," he said. "This is nuts. This must be some kinda miracle." All the while, he never acknowledged that he was picking us up from a completely different location from where he'd dumped us off. With a deep sigh, he told us to get in. 

He did admit that he was in a much better mood than when he'd driven us 90 minutes before. He said he was ashamed at how he'd treated us. We all laughed it off. Not him. He still didn't know what to make of us being full of joy when he was obviously such a miserable soul. Kristy tried again to break the ice with him and get a Gospel conversation going. As a reminder, this is supposed to be a .3 mile return to the hotel, consisting of one stoplight and three turns. We could've walked it, but then we wouldn't have had not one, but two rides with Mr. Sunshine. Anyways, he seemed to be slightly less irritated with us by the time he'd made his third wrong turn. I don't think he even knew he was making wrong turns. At one point, Kristy was trying to talk to him about sin and asked him if he'd heard of the Moral Law. She clarified that she meant the Ten Commandments. And that's when the ride took a turn. Not literally, because he kept missing those, but he got mad. He said, "Now you're just insulting me. Of course I've heard of the Ten Commandments, grumble grumble grumble." He then rambled on about Jesus not dying on the cross, but being revived with special oils and then living out the remainder of his life amongst the Indians. I still don't know where that came from. I've heard it a time or two before, but I have no clue what religion believes that foolishness. Anyway, the remainder of our dozen or so Uber rides had us holding our breath to see if we'd get Bruce again. Thankfully, we did not.

Once back at the hotel, we opted to find a Chicago deep dish pizza to cross that off the bucket list. It did not disappoint. We found the eleventh commandment on the wall and obeyed with zero hesitation. We went back to the hotel fat and happy and eager to see what Day 2 would bring. 

"Thou shall eat pizza"

6 years 2 months

April 1, 2020 is the last time I wrote on this blog. I come back to this spot from time to time for pictures or to jog a memory of a when or a who. 

Sean bought me a laptop for our anniversary. Not one for the kiddos. Not one for their school. It's all mine. He did point out that this should count as silver for our Silver Anniversary as much of the internals are made of silver. I'll allow it. 

I told him I'd like to write again. I am super out of practice, but I did so enjoy the memory keeping and the jotting down the dailiness of life once upon a time. I have years of memories written down for the boys and my second girl hasn't even a mention in this old diary of mine. The first girly at least got a few of her early moments recorded. 

Kinda crazy that my little Birdie on my last post was about the same age baby sister is now. The passing of time is crazy. The games our minds play regarding time so we don't crumble at the thought of...how quickly it all goes...how much we waste it...how Ecclesiastical time really is. 

As I read through my last post, written at the beginning of the covid era, it's so weird to me how much has changed. Not just in our family, but in the world. It all feels so different. So much has been unveiled and it just feels, I don't know, darker? More wicked? Heavier? Closer to The End?

Maybe it's my age. Maybe it's that my kids have grown up. Maybe it's that we're different. 

Six years ago, Simon hadn't even graduated high school. He's been married over a year with a baby boy on the way. I wish I'd written all about the beginning of Simon and Jael. It's been so awesome to be part of this union and to watch the families blend. Her mama has become my dearest friend and I never could've imagined how sweet it would be to truly like my in-laws. I guess I always thought they'd just be a side character in the story. Like she'd be Simon's wife, sure, but not one of *my* best friends. She has been and continues to be the answer to every prayer I ever prayed regarding the girl my son would choose. 

The same could be said about Felix and Hannah. To have struck gold a second time seems incredibly lucky, if we believed in that kinda thing. As it turns out, our God is faithful to answer prayers time and time again. He did that with Hannah. She is to Felix what Jael is to Simon in different ways; in every way Felix needs. 

I was at their house the other day. It's always surreal to me to be at one of my children's homes. I was taking in my surroundings, wondering why their dog doesn't like me. I don't think it's me. I think he just really loves Felix. He misses him if he takes a step away and pines for him til he returns, even if he just went to put his shoes on. Anyway, as I was sitting there, realizing the dog wasn't going to entertain me, I took in the wedding pictures on the wall. Felix printed and framed them himself while Hannah was away on our girls' trip. Tell me that isn't the most precious thing you've ever heard. My eyes continued to scan their decorations and photos and my heart just went pitter pat with pride over how dang cute their first little home is. My eyes settled on their biggest picture. 

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord, it says. 

How's a mom supposed to keep the eyes from misting over when the fruit is right there. The fruit of everything we poured in and the fruit of all that Hannah's parents poured in, right there on display. Two young newlyweds, living out their faith. It's not just about their choice of artwork, it's that they really live it. 

The girls trip I mentioned was this past week. Well, dang. This might get long because I have a lot to say. Let me back up a week or two. 

Sean and I went to the mountains for our anniversary. Amish/Mennonite territory of Virginia. Didn't really know it existed, but I found a super cute Airbnb and made a trip out of it. There's a quilt museum in this town(yes, it's as lame as it sounds) and the biggest fabric store in VA (not lame) is also there. Throw in the place we ate breakfast every morning and that was all there was in this tiny town. Thankfully, there were a few more small towns nearby that had just enough to do to keep us busy, but also forced us to relax. 

The trip was as perfect as could be. We made some great memories. About a month before our anniversary, we got some pretty surprising news. Maybe only surprising to us? Somehow, I found myself pregnant. It seems kinda goofy, looking back, how shocked I was. Having an almost two year old, I still felt on some side of normal that at least she'll be older than her nephew, though not by a lot. Having a baby that would come after its nephew felt a tad freakish. A grandma having a baby? That's just weird. We are not those people, and yet, we are those people. When I called the midwife, I said I'd be joining Jael for her appointment and asked if they could see me also. 

"Sure!...For what?" she asked.

After clarifying that I was sure that I was sure, 14 positive tests sure, they scheduled my appointment. I had lab work done. Everything looked good. They even mentioned I am not their oldest patient. The midwives are awesome about going beyond the physical. We talked about the emotions of a surprise pregnancy and I found myself defensive in a mama bear way, even then. I wanted this baby. I want every baby. I was fine being the butt of jokes. I was fine starting over. I was fine being old and pregnant, again.

After our appointments, Jael and her mom and I had the privilege of seeing our grandson on ultrasound. What an experience. The lady who did the u/s, a family friend of Jael's, asked as I walked in, "How does it feel to be on this side of things? Y'know, not pregnant?" I replied, "Well, actually..." And we all laughed. 

Seeing baby boy on the screen was so surreal. The way Ebony and my eyes kept meeting over this miracle. To be able to pick out Simon's chin and Jael's nose and a plethora of siblings' features on the screen was overwhelming in all the best ways. So much joy. 

So we had that awesome day. A week later, Sean and I were on the anniversary trip. Some sucker didn't sign out of their Disney account, so we watched Father of the Bride 2. What's crazy is that we watched the first one the night before Simon and Jael's wedding. Such a full circle moment to be watching the second one, realizing it's kind of our life. We quoted, "and WHO may I ask is the father?!" our whole trip. If you don't know what I'm talking about, watch the movie. :)

A few days after our trip, I had an ultrasound. I'd scheduled it at that first midwife appointment, just to make sure of dates and such. Thankfully, Sean was off for Memorial Day and was able to come with me. I knew right away. As soon as she put the thing on my belly, I could tell the little nugget wasn't moving. I hoped I was wrong. I wasn't. It's the worst, worst feeling. "There's no heartbeat, I'm sorry." To get used to the idea of another little one, to hope and dream and wonder. To tell all the kids and get their reactions. To tell some people, but not too many people. That's the thing about having already had some losses is that you tend to play your cards close to the vest. But everything looked good and so I started to relax. How crazy to fall in love with the idea of someone you'll never meet, this side of Heaven. The only people who truly understand are those who have been through it. Seeing the little body on the screen, their tiny arms and legs and perfect little head...knowing they're already gone is just heartbreaking. 

Months ago, we'd planned a girls trip up to Lancaster, PA. I know, two trips to Amish towns in a row. We wild. The plans were made before I was pregnant. I know the timing of it all was no accident. It was my mom and me, my 2 daughters in law, Jael's mom, Ebony, and her grandma, Ms. Mary. 

I prayed I wouldn't go through the miscarriage process on my trip, but of course, I knew that's exactly when it would happen. Thankfully, some prayer warriors were on it and I know that's the only thing that kept me afloat. The trip was absolutely perfect in every other way. I am so glad I didn't cancel. We spent a lot of time in the Word. We saw Joshua at Sight and Sound Theater and it was amazing. We did all kinds of girly restaurants and coffee shops and markets. We stayed up late and played card games. We talked, a lot. A lot a lot. We took a buggy ride with a Mr. Leroy who has 7 kids, 39 grandkids and 21 great grands. He's 83 years old and just the most delightful man. He answered all of our questions about being Amish. He took us to a big Amish dairy and introduced us to all kinds of animals and answered more questions from us. He made me wanna be Amish, honestly. Maybe Mennonite, because...electricity. The highlight of the trip for me was the morning we left. We were going to read Ruth, but things shifted and we ended up in a powerful time of prayer. It was one of the most special mornings of my life and I know I will never forget it. 

Ugh, maybe this is why I stopped blogging. Anything longer than a Facebook complaint, quip or quote starts feeling like I said way too much. I do tend to overshare. I don't really know where to go from here. I feel a little stuck. In life and in writing. 

We've reached the lazy days of summer, but it doesn't feel super relax-y. Titus is finishing up the longest ever driver's ed course(I mean, it's actually laughable because obviously no one in VA paid a lick of attention if the situation on every roadway in the Commonwealth is any indication.), just got his first job, travels all over playing paintball and is in love with a girl that is following a very familiar timeline. 

Jude has this horse. After months(and months and months) of convincing, we decided to lease this ole gal. I figured we'd be going out to the barn twice a week now vs once. He figured we'd be going twice a day, every day, for the rest of our lives. As of now, we're closer to his idea than mine. 

The little sisters are along for the ride, most of the time. Sparrow has a girl's group that we meet up with a couple times a month. It's the first thing that's really made me feel like a girl mom. I love it. I kinda thought Sparrow would want to dance or something by now, but she seems to be following in Jude's footsteps and really just wants to get on a horse. She's a little sassy to be on a thousand pound animal as of yet, but she's almost there. 

All that to say, life is full. Even with broken hearts and the "what now" feeling, I rejoice in the here and now. There's no sugarcoating or silver linings for the ache in my soul, but I know God is using/will use this to conform me to the image of Christ. He will use this for His glory. God is sovereign and it is His grace that has given me children, including the ones who have gone on to eternity before me. 

Ten on Tuesday

Yeah, I know. It's actually Wednesday, but who acknowledges things like days of the week anymore? Is anybody out there? Do people read blogs anymore? It seems there's been a recent resurgence in blogging, but it may just be in the circles I travel. They're small circles with particular interests, so maybe blogging is officially dead. Alas, here I am, hoping to connect with the outside world.

1. Yesterday, I purposely avoided any news of the current situation we find ourselves in. I did not read the numbers. I did not read the headlines. Whenever my mind started to wonder or wander, I reigned it back in and asked for some Help keeping my mind focused. I haven't felt such peace in weeks.

2. Today, I looked at the numbers and read the headlines. I let myself linger there for a few minutes. I stayed long enough to collect facts, but not long enough to feed the fear.

3. I've never been more thankful for the way the oldest 3 do school. It was no change for us and their teachers have been so, so amazing. One of T's teachers in particular had me in tears several times last week as she spoke calmly about the situation, reassuring the students. She's very matter of fact, but just has a way about her that brings peace. I sent her a note and told her as much.

4. A few nights ago we had an amazing time of prayer with the kiddos. Full disclosure: it's not the norm. We had reached a breaking point. Everybody was fighting, fuses were super short and anxiety was through the roof. Sean's job, the military aspect that lingers, typical brotherly clashes...it was a day! I had everybody settle in in the coffee nook. Isaiah 26 was the focus. (It was all somber and holy until someone realized there is a verse in the Bible about farting. 'Tis true. Read Isaiah 26 and find it for yourself.) The reason I bring all this up besides trying to make everyone think I'm super holy and righteous is to ask: do you pray with your eyes closed? One of our littles was really shy about praying out loud. Closing our eyes and bowing our heads only made it more awkward. I get the reverence aspect and blocking out distractions, but in practice: do you chat out loud to God? Do you keep it in your inner most thoughts? Do you set aside time to close everyone else out and spend guarded time alone in prayer? Or do you giggle shyly, quietly say what's on your mind and find comfort in knowing He hears and He cares?

5. A separate, but related point: Each kid was asked what/who they'd like to pray about. Know that every single family that we know who is still stuck in Japan was prayed for by name.

6. Jude learned to whistle. He's really good at it. It's been raining for two days. Jude learned to whistle.

7. I've made more than quite a few quilt tops lately. I was planning to do some sandwiching, basting, quilting of my own, but my favorite long armer just announced all of her quilting is a penny a square inch. That's huge savings! It would still cost a small fortune to send off all of my tops, but if I send them off, I can start more tops instead of focusing on the parts of quilting I dislike.

8. One of the first friends I made upon moving back home happens to have a ton of Sakura trees on her property. I visited her home for the first time in the Fall and didn't really take notice. I saw her amazing yard as a whole, not the individual pieces. A few visits later, my heart flip flopped as I recognized the knobby knees of my favorite trees. She was kind enough to share a few weeks ago before the plague was upon us:

9. Next month makes a YEAR that we've been home. It certainly doesn't feel like it and I miss Japan, very much. Not Yokota, but Japan. They're two very separate places in my mind's eye. Although, I do miss some of the people and relationships of Yokota. Such a mixed bag of emotions.

10. Could anyone have ever imagined we'd be here? Who would've thought it would make it from funny memes to lockdowns in, what, one months time? I really like the idea of having the kids journal their feelings or perspectives during this time, but I know that won't happen. Not my kids. Write? For the future? Nah. This may be an attempt to do that for them. To remember the time we were all forced together for a long stretch of time. Our Monday-Friday hasn't changed a heap, but it's a little different knowing the rest of the world is locked down, too. It's different knowing we can't just run to the store whenever the whim hits. We can't even load up and go for a picnic. We haven't been out of the house as a family unit since Jude's birthday. I have never been so thankful for a day at the beach with my kiddos. We went for donuts and ice cream that day. We went to the fabric store where I made a joke about "stocking up for quarantine quilting." We stopped at the guitar shop for Felix and we rounded out the day with Sparrow falling asleep in the car just in time for some Nordstrom Rack clearance shopping while we waited on traffic to clear from the tunnel. It was a jam packed normal day, three long weeks ago. It was before I was super concerned about how far X number of bread loaves would go and how many ways I can play Tetris with my freezer. I wonder what three weeks from now will look like...

**A bonus #11. We've been taking walks through our neighborhood at least twice a day, if it's not raining. We met more neighbors on one walk than we've met in the many years we've lived here. One of them I met three years ago. I made a joke about having to go all the way to Japan to get Sparrow. She laughed and laughed and I just stared at her. It occurred to me after the fact that maybe she didn't realize we left for two and a half years. Maybe she thought I meant we adopted Sparrow from Japan? Either way, it was awkward. Anyways, on our walk the other day, one of my children said completely out of the blue, while staring up at a large Magnolia tree: "Well, mom, those would be good leaves...if it comes to that." Ba dum pshhhh #toiletpapershortage

Back to School

Ooh, ooh! Our turn!

This guy's already a few days into his JUNIOR year via LUOA. It seems like it should be a bigger deal than it actually is. I did try on the phrase, "He's graduating next year," earlier today and it didn't quite sound right, but it is what it is. He's had some pretty big changes lately. A job, a car, all the normal fixings of a teenage life. Some things were put on hold due to our geographic location of the past few years, but now that we're home, he's back on schedule and thriving. 

EIGHTH grade for this guy(and a birthday coming up soon!). This one is my learner. Always reading, always learning, always trying to one up his brother. He gained a guitar recently and has taught himself several songs via youtube. He's also got a few weeks of violin lessons under his belt. 

This one is entering FIFTH grade. He and the eighth grader will be doing things a little differently this year. They all chose to continue homeschooling in a sense, but I won't be the one doing the teaching. Thank God, because I'm tired. The middle two will be going to Wilson Hill Academy, if anyone's curious. Tito is into chatting with his friends in Japan and his drums. He got a full set. I thought they'd be a fun garage addition. Thanks to humidity, they are inside now. They weren't a fun addition to the garage. They're an even less fun addition to the inside of the house. It is so frickin' loud in here, all the tiiiiime. 

 This little rockstar will still have me as his FIRST grade teacher, but he kinda likes the one on one time. The cowboy boots were Simon's, once upon a time. I'm so glad they made their way back to us through the portals of storage. They are his footwear of choice and I don't fight it. 

I never saw homeschooling taking us this far. I never saw us taking homeschooling this far. It was all fun and games when they were little and we had time to get it all in their noggins. Things got real much more quickly than I anticipated. This year, I looked into private schools. I looked into public schools. I looked into running away to join the circus. I did a lot of crying, if I'm being perfectly honest. Yet here we are. Our tenth year of homeschooling? That seems crazy. 

It's the hardest thing I've ever done for so long of a time period. It's exhausting, but rewarding. It's frustrating, but fun. Up to this point, I can honestly say, it's all been worth it. 

6 months(&11 days)

Baby cakes is quite a few days past six months already. She's an awesome baby. Despite her non-existent sleep pattern, she is typically very content. She's a big fan of her feet, chewing on anything, face timing, having her picture taken, anything that crinkles, Minnie Mouse, her brothers, going on walks, driving(so long as the car is in motion), this one particular kids's singing youtube video, sitting in carts, spoons, Japanese sweet potatoes, carrots and fresh blueberries.

It may be a bit early to make assumptions, but she seems to favor her left hand over her right. Sean is a lefty and none of the boys are; I think it would be a fun trait to add to her dimples and red hair.

No, she's not sleeping through the night and while compact, she does manage to take up 3/4 of a King size bed. She has just started sitting up on her own. She tries to feed herself with the spoon, which is awesome(ly messy).

Her poor sleep habits aren't entirely my fault. Her best nap time is usually around 4:30 pm. The anthem plays over the loud speaker every day at 5. Throw in the fact that helicopters, the sound of a basketball being dribbled(there's a basketball court right under her window), the front door latching, and dogs barking wake her up and it's a recipe for no sleep.*

*unless she's being held. Then, none of those sounds wake her up.

Essential oils being diffused, sound machines, swaddling, not swaddling, being warm, being cool, being on her back, stomach, or side do not work to keep her asleep. Every once in a while, it's sheer luck that keeps her in her own bed for any length of time.

Peek a boo scares the crap out of her, every time, yet none of her brothers take the hint. Felix has a voice, just for her. It's pretty much the most adorable thing you've ever seen to watch him interact with her. She is a big fan of his hair and I wonder if she thinks his name is actually "Fuzzy headed ninny muggins," as I refer to him as such.

She has one strand of hair that sticks up way farther than the rest. We are all very careful with that one piece and it's hanging on for dear life. It blows in the wind and cracks us all up more than it should. What can I say? We're very easy to amuse.

We go "kawaii" fishing every time we leave base. Nothing makes me smile like toting this little rockstar through a crowd of old Japanese women. While standing in line at the IKEA cafeteria during the lunch rush recently, an entire row beside us flipped completely around, one by one. It was like human dominoes, "Kawaii! Kawaii! Kawaii!"

I already see so much of a difference in her. I guess I didn't expect differences at so young an age, but she's gentler than the boys ever were. She hugs her stuffed animals already. Like...cuddles them and loves on them rather than throwing them or ignoring them. She doesn't head butt me like every single baby boy I've ever had did at this age. She doesn't pull my hair. She's not demanding. Whenever she hears singing that sounds even the littlest bit emotional, she gets a very concerned look on her face like she could break out sympathy crying at any moment.

She is amazing. Totally worth the wait and sometimes I think maybe she was the whole reason for coming to Japan.